


The Reluctant Babysitter

by weirdsisters99



Series: Ripple of Change [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Babysitting, Breakfast Club for Wizards, Friendship, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Implied/Referenced Depression, Legimens Luna Lovegood, Mentor Severus Snape, Original Character Death(s), Poor Life Choices, Reluctant Babysitting, Sassy Draco Malfoy, Sassy Severus Snape, Seer Ron Weasley, Severus Snape is Bad at Feelings, Severus Snape is So Done, Slight Molly Weasley bashing, Smart Ron Weasley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24384010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdsisters99/pseuds/weirdsisters99
Summary: A series of unfortunate events lead to Severus becoming a reluctant babysitter of four Weasleys, his godson's friends, two slightly touched in the head purebloods, and a Longbottom.Perhaps he should have just stayed in Azkaban.It would require a lot less "feelings".(Set up for the next part in the series)
Relationships: They're kids people
Series: Ripple of Change [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751668
Comments: 16
Kudos: 333





	1. In Which Snape Meets His First Accidental Charge

“No,” Severus stated, his arms crossed at Lucius’s request. “I’m not babysitting…  _ infants _ .”

“Draco is six, and the other children are around his age as well,” his ‘friend’s’ voice was bordering on impatient at his increasing refusal to do as he said. Lucius had always liked being in charge. It was what made Severus enjoy riling him up so. Narcissa was far more understanding of the Potion Master’s views of children, and his incapability to deal with the little monsters, no matter how much he preferred his god-son over others. 

“Like I said,  _ infants _ . I can tolerate Draco, but no one else.”

“I can’t leave them alone without supervision.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have said there would be childcare provided,” Severus snarked back. Narcissa, who was sitting on the other end of the study snorted before returning to her notes.

Lucius’s face turned almost red before the man took a breath and backed down. “There will be house-elves to take care of their needs, I just need someone there to give orders if needed, that’s it.”

The dark haired man pursed his lips. 

“Fine, but you owe me a favor.”

“When do I ever not?” the blond grumbled, “I’ll let the others know then.”

Severus glared as each new parent dropped off their drooling, dunderheaded child with him before heading off to whatever Hecate-forsaken meeting Lucius was holding. On occasion one made the horrible mistake of handing them into his arms. The little oaf was drooly, and looked at Severus with a blank expression. 

Ugh.

How had Goyle found the time to produce an offspring?

Severus had made sure to drop the child as quickly as he could, none too gentle and snorting when Gregory--as so named by his  _ lovely _ parents who had the same amount of brain cells in his opinion--merely ‘oofed’ when he plopped onto the ground as he cleaned his hands of the matter.

“Uncle Sev!” Draco squealed when the movement made him notice his most favorite person in the whole world. 

Severus let out a resigned sigh and opened his arms for the little boy to run into them. While Draco was much more tolerable than his peers, Severus was still not a fan of the grubby hands latching onto his robes and pulling his attention downwards. “Yes, Draco?”

“You’re ignoring me,” Draco complained.

“Is that a whine I hear? I doubt your father would be proud to hear you’ve been whining.”

Draco went quiet. “You won’t tell him right?”

Severus looked down at him and glanced at the clear stress lining his godson’s body. He was clearly scared and worried about what Lucius would be told. For all the times Draco would claim that he would ‘tell his father about this’ on issues, he seldom did. Lucius… was not a kind man when he was disappointed. The Potions Master sighed. “I won’t,” he assured the child, giving him an eerie almost-smile.

The small boy returned it with his own blinding one, giving Severus a hug around his leg, which the man allowed. Children were tactile creatures that should be humored up to a certain point. When Draco didn’t let go, however, the man had more of a problem. “Aren’t you supposed to be playing with Crabbe and Goyle’s brats?” he asked after a failed attempt of shaking Draco off. 

Draco curled in on himself a little. “Father wants me too…”

“I am sensing a ‘but’?”

“... I don’t want to.”

Severus quirked a brow. “You don’t want to?”

Draco shook his head. “They’ll want to play Wizards and Muggles. I don’t like that game.”

“Ah, I see,” he nodded. The game was barbaric at best, and idiotic at worst. Who would want to spend their time chasing after one poor kid chosen to play the muggle and kick and scream fake spells at them? If Severus had been so inclined to partake in such games in general, he’d think he’d have higher standards than that. Then again… it was a game that was favored among the Death Eater offspring given the fact that it promoted violence against muggles and provided the parents with a few laughs. Frankly, Severus was not surprised that his godson didn’t like the game. Despite Lucius’s best attempts, the boy was soft. Still… information gathering was his trade. “And why is that?”

Draco sighed, and hid his face into Severus’s leg, mumbling some sort of response.

The man sighed. “I can’t hear you when you speak into my robes, Draco.”

“I don’t see why muggles are so bad.” The whisper was barely audible, but had Severus tensing regardless.

If Lucius found out about this…

No. 

He wouldn’t find out. 

Severus would make sure of it.

Before he could open his mouth to advise Draco onto not speaking of this to his father, however, a small voice piped up from beside them. 

“I think muggles are interesting. My grandparents are muggles.”

Draco and Severus both turned to see a gangly, awkward looking girl standing right behind them. The dark, almost curly hair gave her away as one of Selwyn’s bunch, but the information about her heritage had Severus immediately place her in the second branch of the family--Ellenworth’s child. It seemed Silas had been forced to bring his niece along to the meeting.

Lovely.

“And you are?” Draco huffed, body tense.

The girl shrugged, “Florence Selwyn.”

Draco scoffed, “Your name is Florence?”

Florence grimaced. “I don’t like it much either, but my dad’s the one that named me.”

“Lord Selwyn named you that?”

She shook her head, “No, Lord Selwyn’s my uncle. My mom’s the head of our house though, so technically he’s only Lord Apparent or Regent.”

“Oh?” Severus quirked a brow at this. He hadn’t known  _ that _ tidbit of information. Perhaps he could find it in him to deal with this new brat for the information she had. Selwyn was a very private family. “I was under the impression that Silas was the head.”

Florence shook her head. “Grandfather wasn’t impressed with him.”

And didn’t that speak volumes about the current house politics for the Selwyns.

Severus merely hummed in consideration and left it at that. He could dig into it more later. For now, he had a bored godson to attend to and distract. “Draco, since those buffoons over there don’t suit your company,” he sneered, looking as the dunderheads in question who had already started up a game, “why don’t you stick with Miss Selwyn here, hmn?”

“Father would be fine with that?” Draco asked with a frown, which made Florence cross her arms.

“He would see you as making connections and alliances with others in the Sacred Twenty-Eight.”

Draco brightened immediately with an, “Okay!” before running off along with Florence to talk about who knows what. This left Severus in blissful silence, save for the occasional ferrying away of children who weren’t his and making them cry. Merlin, he hated children.


	2. In Which Serious (Not Sirius) Conversations are Had

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Beta finished these this morning. I was planning on publishing this all at once, but alas that's not what happened. 
> 
> No clue when my next updates will be, but we'll have to see I guess. I probably won't update full works as much as just chapter by chapter as we move into the Harry Potter school years, but we'll see.
> 
> As for now, enjoy more Grumpy! Severus and his small gaggle of children.

Draco stormed into Severus’s potions lab with a slam of the door, earning a reprimanding glare from the Potions Master at the noise. He wasn’t truly surprised, having put a ward up earlier and knowing the boy was coming, but still. He could learn manners. Draco huffed and puffed in the corner, clearly wanting something. Severus hid a smirk and played ignorance, stirring his cauldron for seven more smooth, clockwise turns and adding doxie venom. He let the boy stew for a long fifteen minutes before clearing his throat. “I did not give you the floo password to barge into my house and throw a tantrum, Draco.”

The boy deflated. “Sorry, Uncle Severus.” He’d dropped the abhorrent nickname in the past couple of years, giving the dark haired man a hard earned solace from ever hearing it again. 

“Now what could be so important to put you in such a foul mood?”

Draco was silent for a long time. 

“You don’t want to tell me? Well I can’t help you if you don’t speak to me about the-”

“I overheard Father talking with Avery.”

“Oh?” 

He glanced up to watch as Draco’s already pale face drew more wan. “I- They were talking about- It was awful, like something out of one of Mother’s dark fairytales. They were talking about ‘the good old days’ when they would- When they-” The blonde struggled to find his words, skin tinged green. He looked at Severus. “Uncle Severus, is Father a bad guy? Like the ones in the stories?”

Now that was something Severus had not expected. He paused for a brief second before continuing to stir. “What makes you say that?”

“What they did to those muggles-” Draco’s face twisted. “I know Father says they’re less than us, but… The other day Wren was telling me about some of their history and-” He frowned. Looking up at his godfather in the eye, he bluntly asked, “There were these awful people who killed the Jews because they thought that they were less than them, that they deserved to die. They put them in these camps and-” Draco grew even greener. “Is my father like them?”

“Wren told you about the Holocaust?” Severus was intrigued. How in Merlin’s beard did that sort of dour conversation get brought up between two eight year olds?

Draco nodded. “We asked Mr. Selwyn about it too. His parents lived through it.”

Severus sighed, putting a stasis spell over his potion. Clearly this talk would require his full attention and faculties. He glided over to Draco’s side and knelt before him. “Draco, look at me.”

The blond did as he asked. 

“Have you learned your Occlumency well enough to keep secrets yet?”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Yes.”

“May I test them before I let you in on a little secret?” 

What was he doing? Severus shoved every alarm in his mind sounding at the thought of telling a child--a child!--about any of this. Draco was different from other brats, he defended against his own thoughts. He knew a great deal about keeping secrets, especially given his father’s political career. 

The boy nodded.

Severus peered into Draco’s mind, impressed by the clear talent his godson had for the art of secret keeping as he prodded at the barrier erected. Lucius and the other Death Eaters were by no means talented Legimens. Only he and the Dark Lord had ever truly pursued that path. It was what made Severus so valuable to both sides, being both a natural Occulmens and having a gift for mind arts in general. He could give a high end pure blood like Black a run for his money, and far surpass him on the sheer amount of paranoia that also festered within himself. 

Both Black and Lupin had taken great fun in poking at said paranoia. 

Regardless of the fact, Draco’s mind was well enough prepared for any basic attack from a wizard with any inkling of untrained talent, or in Lucius’s case a well trained, untalented one. He’d have to teach him to have better shields before he came to Hogwarts thanks to the ruddy Headmaster, but that would be a lesson for a different day. 

“Very well,” he said once he’d withdrawn from his godson’s mind. “To answer your question: Yes, you’re father is like those men from the Holocaust. He follows the Dark Lord who wishes to harm or enslave the muggles and take what they both think is ‘rightfully’ theirs. However, what the muggles have is not theirs. They may not be able to do magic like we can, but they have far surpassed us in other areas.” He paused for slight dramatic effect, before pressing on an old wound of his. “Have I ever told you that my father was a muggle?”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Your father?”

Severus nodded. “The worst sort. I hated him, and so I chose to follow my magic down its dark path, like your father, because at first, I wanted to make people like him pay. I wanted to hurt anyone and everyone like him, but do you know what I learned when I made…  _ friends _ ,” he sneered out the word, already hearing Sirius’s voice in the back of his mind saying  _ “Ah, you do care!”  _ before continuing, “with some unlikely persons?”

“What?”

“That there are wizards and other creatures just as vile and disgusting as my father in our world. Wizard society is no better.” The days where he had caught sight of Black’s back was enough to show him that. “We have the same vices and follies as the muggles, and you know what? People like your father and those like him consider themselves to still be better regardless of those faults. They’re all fools. We’re all wretched creatures unworthy of our own lives.”

Draco looked near tears, causing Severus to soften his tone.

“Muggles, and muggleborns? They’re human just like us. We all bleed the same color. There are no,” his face twisted with regret and self-loathing, “ _ mudbloods _ or anything of that ilk. Some of the best wizards are those with muggle blood running in their veins.” Like Lily, his poor, poor Lily whom he had betrayed in the worst of ways. “And some of the worst, most incompetent of wizards are purebloods. Bloodline only matters up to a point. Do you understand me, Draco?”

The boy nodded silently, before asking, “Father’s wrong then?”

“Yes.” 

He bit his lip. “And- And Mother?”

Severus frowned. “I’ve never been quite certain where your mother’s loyalty lies, so I couldn’t tell you for sure.”

Draco hesitated. “Am I bad then?”

“No, no, no,” Severus shook his head, pulling his godson into a stiff, but decent enough hug. “You are not bad. You are a child who belongs to a family of people who are confused or unreasonable, but that does not mean you will become your parents.” That was something Black had always stood for. Damn, Severus wanted to curse. He was dwelling much too often on his imprisoned friend. Hmn, when was the last time he had worked on getting him free or locating Lupin? He didn’t know, and that soured the taste in his mouth. 

He refocused on the task at hand as Draco let out a relieved breath. “What about you, Uncle Severus?”

“I’m… I’m not as confused, though for a while I was. I had a good… friend who was a muggleborn,” he admitted. “Yes, I still want someone to pay for all the evil in the world, but even I acknowledge that I cannot do anything about it considering how vast and corrupt it is as a whole and it’s parts. Frankly, if we were to go to such extremes as the Dark Lord wished, we should just all off ourselves in the process and let the world start anew from scratch.” 

_ Bit too radical there, _ Lupin’s voice whispered from the back of his mind.

_ Shut up, _ he told it. 

Draco blinked up at him. “So you don’t agree with the Dark Lord?”

Severus shook his head. “No.”

“Then why did you…” He pointed to the hidden mark on Severus’s arm.

“I was a spy for Dumbledore.”

_ Wait, why did he admit that to a child? _

“Oh,” Draco’s expression twisted in thought, causing Severus to watch him apprehensively. Would an oblivious curse do too much brain damage to a child if he needed to use it? Surely Narcissa would prefer her offspring to not be returned to her brain dead, right? Maybe he could use a forgetfulness potion since the memory was recent enough? “Is that why you asked me about my Occlumency?”

Severus blinked. “Yes.”

“Okay. I won’t tell.”

He was telling the truth.

Severus let out a sigh of relief, before standing up. “Let’s have some biscuits and tea, shall we?”

Draco brightened up and ran out of the room. 


	3. In Which There are Weasleys

Severus had waited for the other shoe to drop for about two months after their conversation before letting it go and reluctantly allowing himself to believe that he was safe for the moment. Draco wouldn’t rat him out. The boy wasn’t like that. If he had wanted to say something to his father about Severus’s true loyalties, he would have done it already, not waited. But no. Time went on and the matter was tabled up until the day he heard the floo chime. Sighing resentfully as he had to put the various law books to rest--still nowhere near finding a way to get Sirius a trial considering he’d already been unofficially sentenced and was therefore unable to call upon his own lawyer--he got to his feet to approach the floo. He wasn’t all that surprised to see it was Draco calling. He reached out to Severus more often than his father did, and that was saying something. 

“What is it now?” he snapped waspishly as he opened the connection.

“Hello to you too, Uncle Severus,” Draco snarked back, getting an unamused raised eyebrow in return. “I was wondering if you would do me a favor.”

He scowled, eyes narrowing. “What kind of favor?”

“I want to have some friends over.”

“Why can’t you have that at your own house? Why bother me over it?”

“Because…” Draco seemed pensive, making Severus watch him closely, as he mumbled some response.

“Speak up! You know better than to mumble when speaking to me.”

“... because I don’t think my father would agree with who I’m spending my time with.”

Severus’s eyes narrowed. “Clarify.”

He gave a dramatic sigh. “Wren occasionally have some Light families over and I’ve made friends,” he stated bluntly, glaring at Severus. “I want to have a place where we can talk where Wren’s uncle can’t constantly be scoffing and where I don’t have to arrange my visits around when we  _ might _ be able to interact by  _ chance _ .”

“What families?” 

Draco gave him a look. “Does it really matter?”

“If you’re going to be inviting yourself into my house on a regular basis, I think I would like to know who will be coming over.”

He scowled, almost making Severus proud at how similar it was to his own. “Longbottoms and the Prewitts.”

He quirked a brow. “The Prewitts don’t have children. That line married into the-”

“I think my father put a taboo on their name. I will not be saying it and summon his fury,” Draco told Severus.

The man stared at him, before humming in acknowledgement. It wouldn’t surprise him. That sounds like something Lucius would do. Might explain how he always found out Weasley-centered gossip at parties. “Very well, but you better not expect me to be nice.”

He snorted. “You’re never nice, Uncle Severus.”

“Good. You’re learning.”

“Thanks again.” Draco smiled at him brightly. “Can you have your floo open for visits this Saturday?”

“Very well.” Severus twisted his face into a scowl. “I’ll be here.”

Draco disappeared from sight.

Draco Malfoy grinned as he walked out of the fireplace a few days later, pulling Blaise, Theo, and Millicent along with him. Thankfully, his father had allowed him to leave Crabbe and Goyle behind. Those two dolts along with Parkinson would have caused problems with the rest of their group. It had been a miracle that he was sure, in part, was thanks to Uncle Severus claiming that the visit would be for early potions tutoring. Uncle Sev had made it very clear that he did not like Crabbe and Goyle, and that they would not be welcomed thanks to their ‘dunderheadedness’. 

“This is Professor Snape’s house?” Blaise whispered, looking around unimpressed at the surrounding knick knacks and books. “Somehow I was expecting… something else.”

“Like a dungeon?” Theo suggested.

“Or for it to be darker?” Milicent piped up. “That sounds more like Professor Snape.”

“While your critiques on my decor,” the man in question purred dangerously as he walked in, “are  _ appreciated,  _ I would think you would show greater restraint on commentating.”

The three of them gulped while Draco just rolled his eyes. He was used to his godfather’s dramatics. So, instead of shivering in fear, he walked forward and gave the man a big hug. Uncle Severus glared down at him, clearly unhappy without his usual intimidation tactics. 

“Cheeky brat,” he grumbled, making the blond smirk. 

“Longbottom, the Prewitts, and Selwyn will be here soon,” the boy said in response.

Uncle Severus huffed, before grumbling. “Since we’re doing this under the guise of potion tutoring, I’ll expect some sort of effort on it at some point. You can socialize while brewing what I have planned so your parents don’t suspect anything.”

“Thank you.” Draco smiled. 

The potions master just grunted. “Alert me when your other friends have all arrived. And stay in here.”

With that he walked out.

“He’s scary,” Millicent whimpered. “I don’t know how you’re not shaking.”

“He’s my godfather” He shrugged. “Now let’s get everything set up before the others get here.”

“Wren’s bringing them by?”

Draco nodded. “Her mother’s meeting with the heads of both the Prewitt and Longbottom lines. Wren’s going to sneak them out of the house somehow.”

The floo flared like it had heard them, Wren popping through. “Sorry we took so long,” she apologized. “We had some… unexpected arrivals.” Her expression twisted.

Behind her, the floo went off a few more times, Neville being the first to tumble out, tripped over by an overexcited Weasley boy that Draco didn’t recognize. He was tall, lanky, and covered in freckles as he cursed and grunted, trying his best to get to his feet. Fred and George followed him, giving the blond a repentant look. “Ickle Ronnie-kins was forced to come with us thanks to Mum.”

“You must be Ronald then?” Draco asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Why the bloody hell is there a  _ Malfoy  _ here?” the Weasley sneered, only to be whapped on the head by both Neville and the twins. 

“This is the friend we’re visiting. Don’t be rude,” Neville snapped at him. 

The redhead blinked at him in shock. “Did you just-”

“Yep,” Fred started.

“- he did-” George continued.

“- our favorite-”

“- Longbottom is more-”

“- than he seems!” they both finished. 

“We all are,” Wren agreed, taking a seat next to Theo and Blaise. 

The Weasley blinked. “I don’t understand.”

“Can I be the one to explain it this time?” Millicent piped up.

The rest of them shrugged and gestured for her to do as she liked. The troll-ish girl grinned toothily before hopping in front of the Weasley. “You’re from the same family as Fred and George, right?”

He glared at her. “What of it?”

“Well, haven’t you always thought it was strange that they always want to hang out with your Aunt Muriel?”

He sniffed. “Maybe.”

“Well, that’s because of us,” Blaise chipped in, only to be silenced by a fierce glare from Millicent. He put his hands up in the air. 

“I’m getting there!” she hissed, before turning back to Weasley. “You know me as Millicent Bulstrode, right? From the Dark family?” He gave a silent nod. “Your parents probably say that my entire family is full of Death Eaters and dark magic users, right?”

He nodded again, a shrewd look in his eye. “But you’re not?”

Draco quirked a brow. He’d been under the impression that this Weasley was dumb and rash thanks to all the stories he’d heard from his father--who was a poor source, so shame on him--as well as some of the other children. Clearly that wasn’t all true.

“Well, my family is Dark in the traditional sense, and a fair amount of them are Death Eaters.” Millicent grimaced, before gesturing to the rest of them. “Most of us are from families like that, but… who says we’re our parents?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Oh, stop playing dumb, Ronnie-kins,” Fred teased. 

George cut in, “It’s not like everyone in our family is the same either, right?”

“Unlike what Mum thinks-”

“- You’re right there, Forge.”

“Of course I am, Gred!”

The whole group rolled their eyes at their antics. 

Weasley frowned, “So what? You’ve been sneaking away from Mum and Dad to talk to Dark kids?”

“In a manner of speaking-”

“- yes.”

“None of us really make friends with our usual playmates,” Neville piped up. “And technically Wren and Draco started it.”

“I didn’t like the games other kids were playing at meetings. I-” Draco bit his lip, looking around as if to make extra sure it was safe to share secrets. “I don’t hate muggles, or muggleborns, despite what my father says about them. And Uncle Severus told me… he told me what my father was really like.”

“A right git?”

“Ron!”

“What? I’m just saying!” the redhead glared at his brothers, “Or have you forgotten all those horrible things he’s done to Dad?”

Fred and George went silent. 

“My father is not kind,” Draco said after a while, holding his hand out towards Weasley, “But… I don’t want to be him either. Would… would you like to be my friend?”

Weasley looked at him with distrust for a long moment, glancing at his brothers every once and a while, before slowly reaching out a hand of his own and taking Draco’s. “Fine, and it’s Ron, not Ronnie-kins or Ronald or whatever my brothers have called me.”

The blond grinned. “Ron then.” He turned to the rest of them. “Now, shall we see what Uncle Severus has in store for us?”


	4. In Which There are Adventures in the Small Things of Life

Severus sighed as he heard his personal floo go off, already putting a pause on the potion he was brewing and storming towards his office. “When I offered up my home to you lot, I did  _ not _ give you permission to become some tree house for you to-”

He cut himself off as he noticed it was just the twins--the troublemakers that kept him on his toes, reminding him so much of Lupin and Black that it  _ hurt _ before he shoved the sentiment back--standing in his office. One of them was covering his cheek protectively, while the other glared at Severus, eyes narrowed.

“What happened?”

“Mum caught us.”

Severus let out a loud breath and a few curses as he walked over. “Let me see,” he demanded, tearing the hand away from the one’s cheek as he looked it over. “I see Molly hasn’t lost her  _ charm _ .” His eyes flicked to the unhurt twin. “Which one are you?”

“Fred.”

“Fred, then,” he was almost certain it was George and the two were having a go at him, but frankly he didn’t care. “Why did you let yourselves be caught? I thought you were better than this. The first rule of surviving is to always have an escape route. I know I taught you that, I taught  _ all _ of you that.”

Fred mumbled something under his breath.

“Repeat.  _ Clearly _ .”

“We were just messing around!” Fred bristled, glaring at him when George winced as Severus worked a salve onto the inflamed area. 

“We weren’t even pranking anyone,” George managed after a moment, “We just… we had some spare supplies to experiment potions with and she thought we were up to something. Ron tried to distract her with the gnomes, but it didn’t work. She didn’t even try to listen to us before we were having our ears yelled off.”

“George tried to get her to calm down and she moved to cuff his ear but…”

“She missed. We- She was crying when we ran off. I don’t think she meant it,” George mumbled. 

Severus looked between the two of them, standing to his full height before grunting. “Give her time to cool off, and if she does this again, you come immediately to me. Even hitting you on accident is unacceptable, understood?”

The twins nodded. 

“Now come.” He stalked off towards the potions lab. 

They looked at each other in confusion before following. “Where are you-”

“- taking us?”

“Letting you experiment with potions on your own is asking for trouble,” Severus grumbled. “So I’m supervising you and making sure you don’t waste your family’s money on ingredients you’ll need for school.”

They lit up, already moving to thank him when he held up a hand and glared at them.

“Don’t thank me. I’m doing this so Draco doesn’t inevitably come to me crying when you’ve blown yourselves up.”

The two looked at each other again, grinning as they turned back to him, and spoke at the same time:

“Of course, professor!”

There were very few days where Severus could have time to himself, his time divided between the Weasley Miscreants, grading essays, dealing with Dumbldore’s increasingly irritating orders, pacifying Lucius, and providing a safe space for everyone his godson had come to collect. By fall, there were two more members of his little club that were consistent visitors--Miss Lovegood and Miss Weasley--and at least nine more total with varying Dark, Light and Neutral houses. He’d need to draw the line with Draco soon before his house turned into a circus.

However, it seemed as the floo chimed--causing him to put yet another mystery novel away--it would not be today. He looked up to see a dour looking Nott, Zabini, and Bulstrode, all three glaring at each other. Pursing his lips, he cursed everything below and above internally. Why was he having to become a counselor for all these troublesome children? “Dare I ask what you’re doing here?”

“Theo called me a troll!” Bulstrode immediately shouted, Theo yelling above her with his own reply of:

“You were acting like one!”

“Would you two both just shut up or not yell at each other while I’m stuck between you two idiots?” Zabini snapped. 

Severus watched as the squabble grew and grew until he could feel the beginnings of a migraine building behind his eyes. He let out a long sigh. 

He was nowhere  _ near _ equipped for this.

Moving to his feet, he stooped over them before putting each of them in a separate corner of the room. They all started to protest, but were cut off with a spine-shivering scowl. “You will each stay in those spots and not speak until you have something constructive to say. If you speak and it is not worth my time or effort, I will give you detention-worthy punishments. Do I make myself clear?”

They were all silent.

He let out a satisfied puff of air, and moved back to his seat. The words on the page drew him in, but he did not let it drag him under. Instead, he let himself read casually, keeping a wary ear out for any sign of talking or misbehavior from them. It took a while--a  _ long _ while where there was only the sound of him turning the pages of his book--before Nott was the first to speak.

“I’m sorry, Millie,” his voice was soft. “I- I shouldn’t have said that. I just- My father’s been getting after me and he wants to set up a marriage contract between us since we ‘get along’ so well and… I don’t want to marry you. I thought if I acted out he would see that it wasn’t a good idea.”

The girl sniffed. “That’s not much of an apology.”

“Miss Bulstrode,” Severus warned.

She sighed. “I get it though. But what you said really hurt. A lot.”

“But people are always calling you one and you never react to it from them,” Nott pointed out.

“Because they aren’t my friends, Theo,” Bulstrode’s voice cracked, “I don’t care what they think, and they’re all just being nasty anyways. You… I care about what you think.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know…” she let out a slight laugh, “I don’t think I’d want to marry you either.”

“Hey!”

“Just saying. I know how much your feet stink.”

“No they don’t!” Nott flushed, turning to look at her. “That’s just rude!”

“It’s the truth.”

Severus allowed the small fight, knowing it had become playful rather than anything he should trouble himself with. Instead, he allowed his eyes to flick towards Zabini, who was still silent. He met the boy’s eyes and how he watched the two of them with a blank expression. Leaving the two to bicker, he swooped over towards the dark-skinned boy, sending the others off towards the kitchen. 

Kneeling down, he looked him in the eye. “And what seems the problem with you, Mr. Zabini?”

The boy was quiet, the two standing in silence for a long time--at least ten minutes by the Potions Master’s count--looking at Severus with dark, desperate eyes. “I have a new dad.”

“Ah,” Severus hummed, getting to his feet once more and leading them towards his desk, sitting Zabini across from him. “And the talk about Miss Bulstrode and Mr. Nott’s own possible engagement put you on edge?” He proffered a small box of cookies that Minerva kept giving him--he’d never eat them--to the boy.

He shrugged, taking one and nibbling on it. “I don’t really care.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

Zabini was silent again. 

“Do I have to defend my mother from what others say about her if I honestly don’t care?”

“No,” Severus shook his head, “I would say that you should defend only what you hold dear and to protect yourself.”

“... Am I the son of a whore?”

The man looked at the boy, noting the hitched shoulders. “I should think you would know the answer to that. Or are you not part of an ever-growing club of people who are dead-set on not becoming their parents?”

Zabini let out a soft laugh before settling down into silence again.

Severus respected Zabini for his taciturn nature. He was the only one of Draco’s friends that he necessarily  _ liked _ besides, perhaps, Miss Selwyn. They both didn’t blabber on about nothing of importance unless it was needed for their masks. While Miss Selwyn played the part of political nightmare waiting to happen due to her faked incompetence on the matter, Zabini played the mysterious loner very well. Almost too well.

His eyes narrowed.

“Is your mother pressuring you into her lifestyle?”

Zabini avoided his gaze.

“Hmn, I see,” he drawled, before offering him another cookie. “Well, know that you don’t have to if you don’t want to, and if she ever makes you uncomfortable, it’s in clear violation of a few laws I can think of. And I happen to know a good lawyer.”

“You mean Lord Malfoy.”

Severus nodded. “He owes me a favor and he’s not a fan of your mother so he would do so without much question.”

Zabini hummed, before getting to his feet. “I’ll think about it,” he said after another moment, and running off towards the kitchen to join his friends.

The Potions Master watched him leave, before summoning his book to settle down for some more light reading after making sure his lab and personal rooms were warded shut. 

“You’re joking,” Severus stared at the two shifting boys, an unimpressed glare on his face. “How did you manage  _ this _ ?” He gestured to the messy living room, books knocked over along with furniture, plants hanging out of their places, and his tea pot mysteriously missing.

Weasley, the youngest boy, and Longbottom avoided his gaze.

“It was an accid-”

“Accident? You really think I’ll believe that? Try pulling the other one.”

Weasley flinched while Longbottom put on a brave face, abandoning his usual mask of cowardice to glare back at Severus. “It really was an accident.”

“Then pray tell, what happened?” he snapped.

Longbottom stood tall. “Ron was reading about warding and his magic reacted. I was admiring your plants when I felt it and I reacted. Our cores mixed and caused all…” he gestured to the mess, “this.”

“You’re saying this is accidental magic?” Severus looked at them, expression pinched.

Longbottom nodded.

He turned to Weasley. “Warding?”

The boy shrugged, “Bill likes it.”

“So what, you’d thought you’d copy him?”

Weasley was silent, before he bit his lip-- _ Merlin’s beard save me _ \-- tears at the corners of his eyes. “Mum and Dad like Bill.”

Severus let out a long sigh. If there was one consistent problem that he got from all Weasley’s he’d met, in and out of school, was the fact that there were too many children with insecurity issues.  _ Molly, I swear _ , he thought murderously,  _ you better repay me back for all the bloody therapy I’ve been giving your brats thanks to your parenting! _ He carefully controlled his expression and glared down at the boy. “Weasley, you are not your brother. Any of them. If this is some sort of attempt to try and earn your parents love, it will fail. Don’t copy them in some half-arsed fashion, be  _ original. _ Now, tell me, what is it  _ you  _ like to do?”

Weasley shifted around, clearly not having expected that sort of reaction from him. “I, erm…”

Longbottom gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “It’s alright, Ron. He won’t judge. Professor Snape doesn’t think I’m weird about my plant thing.”

Severus rolled his eyes.  _ Plant thing _ . There were far better words to describe the Longbottom boy’s sheer skill and magical inclinations towards Herbology. He was gifted. What else was he supposed to do? Tell the boy to drop the idea of being good at something he was clearly meant for? That would be absurd. Honestly, what was Augusta thinking? Neville Longbottom was not her son, that was for damn certain. Saying otherwise was lunacy. 

“... I like chess. It- It makes sense,” Weasley managed after a moment. 

“Why do you like chess?”

“Because I can be in control,” he replied immediately, an odd look on his face. “And I like figuring out how to beat other people in the game.”

“You’re a strategist then,” Severus stated, looking at him closely. “Is there another reason?”

He tugged at his worn sweater. “It’s the one thing I’m better at than everyone else. Even Blaise.”

Severus arched his brow.  _ Great. Insecurity issues as well.  _ “Is it challenging enough for you?”

Weasley frowned, before shaking his head. “It’s really easy.”

“Do you like it because it’s easy?”

He shook his head. 

“Would you like to try and play against me? I’ve been told I’m good,” Severus hummed, using his wand to silently repair the living room back to how it was. The two boys didn’t need to be punished for accidental magic, and it would take far longer to have them clean it up anyways. 

The boy lit up. “You would?”

“Have I ever offered something I didn’t mean?” the man snapped, setting up the board and watching as Longbottom settled back onto the couch so he could return to pruning Severus’s fickle tea tree.

Weasley grinned. “You’re on!”

Severus raised a brow and the two of them started into a long set of games that he could proudly call himself the victor of nine times in a row.

Weasley beat him on the last attempt, a crowing smile on his face.

Severus stared down at the documents before him, eyes underlined with an incredulous amount of sleepless nights. How was he supposed to get Black out of prison when Crouch was still in charge? The man wouldn’t listen to him, much less anyone begging that a Death Eater was innocent. He’d barely been able to be convinced by Dumbledore to let Severus go. This was hopeless. 

The spy reached over to take a long swig of fire whiskey, enjoying the burn down his throat. Perhaps he should see if he could go in and check on Black? Would they even let him in there to try and speak to him? Hmn, probably not without Dumbledore’s permission, which Severus was sure as hell wouldn’t be given. The old man was up to something, and as the years had gone by, that had become more and more apparent. They were all chess pieces in some sort of game between the headmaster and the Dark Lord. Pieces that could be discarded at a moment’s notice. 

“Professor?” an airy voice broke past his increasingly depressing thoughts.

He blinked, looking up to see the Lovegood girl staring at him from the doorway to the room. She was… odd. Odd in a different way than he was as a child, but still strange. And observant. “Yes, Miss Lovegood?”

She skipped towards him without fear and gently patted his hand. “It’s okay, sir.”

He blinked and stared at her.

“You have a very bad infestation of Wrackspurts right now,” she told him knowingly. “I hear puzzles can help.”

“Puzzles?” he repeated, letting her help him to his feet as he waved the papers back into their usual compartments. His head was fuzzy and worn from overuse. 

“Puzzles.” Lovegood smiled brightly at him, tugging Severus along with her and into the main living area. No one else was over, and he hadn’t even heard the blonde come through to begin with, which probably meant he was a little  _ too _ drunk. 

She sat him down and gave him a knowing look, dancing off towards the kitchen and coming back with a warm mug. Placing it in his hand, she grinned and sat next to him with her own cup and pulled a table between them. Severus noted absently that the drink in his hand smelled like sweetened milk, like she’d somehow found vanilla in his bare kitchen and mixed it in. He dubiously sipped on it and found his suspicions to be correct. It was warmed vanilla.

His mother had used to make this whenever Tobias Snape came home drunk and tossed them around for a while. 

Severus pushed the thought away immediately. There was no need to dredge up dead memories from times long past. Instead, he watched as Lovegood started on the puzzle, working from the inside out without much trouble. The girl was humming a soft melody that didn’t seem to have any sort of rhyme or reason to it and would have seemed discordant coming from anyone else. He silently handed her a piece at one moment, noting it was the one that was missing, before withdrawing with his drink once again.

“I think wrackspurts aren’t very fond of vanilla. I’ll have to tell Daddy about it,” she said after a few minutes.

“Hnn,” he grunted, taking another sip. 

“You know,” Lovegood’s eyes flicked up to his, “you shouldn’t worry so much. If you worry a lot you become susceptible to nargles and fwitzers. They’re oddly fond of people who collect wool in their heads. Your friend will be alright. He wouldn’t want you to worry about him.”

“You are terrifyingly perceptive, Miss Lovegood.”

“I just know how all the imaginary creatures work, sir.”

“Hnn.”

They had a lovely afternoon sitting over warmed milk and puzzles.

Severus found he didn’t mind, even if he would never admit it. 

By the time Draco and the others were heading into their first year, Severus had somehow become more used to their presence than without it. It was now odd when his home was quiet. He wasn’t sure he liked the thought, considering he had happily lived for years and years in the solitude of Spinner’s End. Summers were still an ever bustling machine of movement in and out of his home as the Weasleys came by, their little sister occasionally trailing after them, but for the most part preferring to stay at home with her mother--not seeing a use in their activities quite yet. People would come and go, dropping the masks that they used in public for the brief respite that he could offer them. 

It was strange that they entrusted him, a spy, with their true selves, and even came to him for tips on how to craft their personas. The latter was less of a surprise, considering his great skill. He’d warned each and every one of them that if they ended up outside of Slytherin that he would be nasty at school, unfair even. This only led to the Weasley twins doing their best to earn as many private detentions with him as they could to practice potions with him. Occasionally they would go too far, much like the Marauders, which set Severus’s nerves on end and he would give them horrible tasks to work on instead. They quickly learned that he was not one for bullying of any sort and respected the boundary. Good.

This year he would be watching as Longbottom played the bumbling imbecile just to spite his grandmother and uncle who had done so much damage. He’d sworn that he would be as different from his parents as he could, while still honoring their memory in the long run. Alice and Frank would have been so proud. Along with him, the youngest of the male Weasleys had taken on the persona of a slothful but friendly companion, shoving his insecurities to the forefront in a manner that would leave him with only friends who could deal with his worst trait. Draco had agreed to playing a copy of his father and would be enjoying some fake banter with him to keep up the idea of the feud between their two houses. Severus knew better--the two more debate rivals than enemies. Miss Bulstrode would be doing her best to come across like a female Crabbe and Goyle. Zabini and Nott had decided they would sit and watch from the background, hiding their true motives, but not putting on any farce in particular. As for Miss Selwyn, he was sure she would be continuing her efforts to act like she did at home, incompetent at politics, but overwhelmingly clever in other areas.

All in all, he was proud.

Which meant when the floo went off in his office, he only let out a small sight, his lips twitching up in a smile, as he walked towards the room. 

The start to a smile disappeared when he saw what it was. 

Miss Selwyn was standing just outside the floo, her face pale and sickly as she shivered. The bottom of her robes were dark, and her white socks stained red. She looked at Severus and started to sob. 

The man immediately flared his cloak to cover her with it and lead her towards the kitchen. Her sobs soon developed into hitched breaths and panic, which had him summoning a Calming Draught and pressing it to her lips. Selwyn gulped at it absently, tears running down her face as it did its work, leaving Severus to prepare a mug of warmed milk with vanilla which had become a staple at his house. Her skin was already cool to the touch--likely from shock, he noted--and it would do well to warm her with it.

“Drink,” he instructed, pushing it into her hands.

She took a long sip of it, looking wholly haunted.

“Now tell me what happened.”

“D-Dad… He- He’s- Unc-Uncle S-Silas-” she started to sob again.

He sighed, his fingers tapping against the table with impatience. “Drink, Miss Selwyn.”

She took another sip.

“Would you mind if I used Legilimency?” he asked her. It would be no use of her telling him if it would dissolve her into tears and lead to a panic attack. Both of which seemed likely despite the Calming Drought.

She nodded and opened her mind. 

He made eye contact, before wordlessly pressing in. Severus watched snatches of memory as he saw Silas Selwyn argue loudly with who he presumed to be Miss Selwyn’s father, their words muted from behind the door that she had been watching from. Wands were drawn and-

Oh.

Severus stepped out of her mind and moved to kneel in front of her. “Miss Selwyn, did you just come from your father’s office?”

She nodded numbly.

“And you just saw this happen?”

She nodded. 

“Will your mother do anything-”

She shook her head, crying. “Family matters stay within the family,” she croaked. “Un- Silas has been threatening Mum for a while a-about Dad. I- I-” She broke into pieces.

Severus gathered her into his arms and ran his hand through her hair, rocking her back and forth like he vaguely remembered his own mother used to do for him when Tobias had been rough with her. 

This was not how he wanted to spend his day with Hogwarts semester starting up in less than a month. 

Then again, he doubted this is what Miss Selwyn wanted either. 

“May I let the others know?”

She shrugged once the tears had run themselves dry and they were back in the living room. 

“Alright… I’m sure Neville can help you work through things while your family sorts themselves out.”

He sighed when she only went back to crying.

Severus wasn’t equipped for this. 

Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The next story will take place during everyone's (sans Ginny and Luna of course) second year. As far as this story goes, the first year all happened the same with everyone playing their role as usual which is why the masks were developed the way they were. Wren is not seen in the first year as an "important character" at all, because the death of her father (which I tried to imply above, if it's not clear let me know and I can try and revise but no guarantees there) left her grieving for her first year and withdrawn. She's much more up to acting up her role during the second year, which is why I made this choice. 
> 
> As is standard for most of the works with us, please make sure to comment down below, because it keeps my spirits up.
> 
> Hope you all liked it and thank you for reading!


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